Disclaimer: Guess what? I'm still broke, and all Sailor Moon characters belong to the one and only, Naoko Takeuchi. I just own the idea for this fic. Please do not steal!

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni dónde.
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

sino de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

.

Pablo Neruda - Sonnet XVII (from "Cien sonetos de amor")

I do not love you as though you were the salt rose, topaz
or carnation arrow spreading fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that does not flourish, and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and, thanks to your love, it lives darkly in me
the quickening aroma that rose from the soil.

I love you without knowing how or when or where,
I love you straightforwardly, without problem nor pride:
I love you thus because I do not know other way to love,

but like this, in which I am not nor you are,
so close that your hand on my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes drift close with my sleep.

.

.

.

Prologue

Unaffected by the autumn wind making the black material of her blazer fly around her frame, she kept the single flower to her chest, protecting it, as she made her way into the empty stadium. No lights, no loud music, no sea of flashes as thousands of cameras went on. No prying eyes. No one, but the security guards, and maybe a janitor or two.

And him.

She knew he'd be there. Just like he always did.

Every year, when the calendar hit that one date, he would suddenly disappear. Silently, turning off his cellphone, seeking for a few hours of solitude. Just him, the open sky -unlike that one day-, and his memories, as the only way he had to pay his respects, for there was no grave for him to do so. And as she approached the lonely figure sitting in the middle of the field, just as she had expected, she knew, he preferred it that way. So it was more private. Personal.

Eight years.

Has it really been that long? It seemed like yesterday, when the beginning of the end had started, so suddenly. So abruptly. And so, so forlornly. And yet, at the same time, it felt as if it was ages ago.

She shook her head at that last thought, half amused. Time surely had its strange ways, sometimes eternal, others incredibly ephemeral...

She finally reached him, sitting there, on the exact same spot he had knelt on, all those years ago. Holding her, with crystal tears flooding down blue eyes, as she passed away. Turning into nothing, dissolving into thin air, leaving nothing behind but three broken, lost hearts, and a fading fragrant of olives ascending into the darkened sky.

It was funny, in a weird kind of way. She had barely known her, and yet she could still remember that scent. So vividly.

With one leg bent up, his elbow resting over his knee, and the other under him, he just sat there. Mindlessly playing with the grass with his free hand; long, jet black ponytail dancing in the wind, midnight blue eyes lost somewhere in front of him, and that same fragrant probably -certainly- lingering in his mind.

Not wanting to disturb him, she bent down, placing the single poinsettia she brought with her on the ground, and then sitting next to him. It was nothing like the magnificent, burning flowers he told her about. But the star shaped flower was the only one that somewhat resembled them, and she had read somewhere that, though usually related to Christmas and general cheerfulness, originally, it was considered a symbol of purity.

A pure star. She liked that. It was fitting, too. For that, the late Fireball Princess surely was.

A gentle touch upon her cheek made her turn to the side to look into midnight blues, and she smiled softly, lovingly tiling her head towards his touch.

"How did you find me?" he asked, curiously, in a low whisper, as if not wanting to break the tranquil moment.

"You always come here," she answered; her smile widening just a little when blue eyes blinked in surprise.

He frowned then, cutely and curiously, and she shook her shoulders, turning to look up front, letting her eyes take in the sight in front of her. It sure looked different from what she remembered. It seemed bigger, somehow. And quiet. Peaceful, with the sunlight pouring down like that, and the wind dancing around the green grass.

She had always known he came here every year. And every year, she silently respected his wishes, giving him a time alone. Just him, the open field that held so much meaning, and his memories. From that day, and from long before that.

She couldn't even begin to imagine what it felt like, to see her Princess die in her arms, being unable to do anything but watch. She didn't even want to think about it. And she actually admired him. All of them, really, for the way they had stood up. With no one else but each other to relay on, avenging their dead Princess, standing up against Galaxia and defending the Moon Princess, and ultimately, the entire planet. A planet that wasn't really theirs. And though they had made it their home, she knew, a part of them would always be years light away, on a now devastated planet, with the never dying memory of a beloved Princess. And now only the three of them were left of that lost world she had only heard of.

It was a silent agreement between the three of them, to leave each other alone on that one day -which, admittedly, was highly unusual.

Yaten would lock himself up on his apartment, or maybe go out around parks, botanical gardens and conservatories alike, Nikon in hand, finding flowers and leaves and small little details that would remind him of Her. Taiki, on the other hand, went to the observatory, probably looking through the telescope for hours, trying to find that one dying star he once called home.

And he came here. To the place he had seen her last.

She knew how much Kakyuu meant to them. To him. And she had always respected their one day long silent retreat. But on her way home she had seen that poinsettia -a rare thing, considering winter was yet to come-, and the rich red flower reminded her of equally red eyes. Again, a strange thing, considering she had only seen her a couple of times. But the vivid image of those red eyes came to her mind, and the compelling need to be with him, to be beside him on this particular day was just too strong to ignore it.

Yes, this was not his home planet. And, yes, his Princess had died. But he was not alone.

Earth was his home now. The Moon Princess had welcomed him with open arms, accepting him and his brothers in life and battle into her court, and, more importantly, into her circle of friends. A true, honest, deep friendship had flourished between the Lights and the Prince of Earth. They had built a new life, here on earth.

She turned back to look at him. A soft smile decorating her lips.

With this new life, something else came along. Unwanted, and even unwelcome at first, completely unexpected, a deep love has found its way between them. And the love they shared had grown within the years, getting stronger, unbreakable. And it was so real, so unique in its intensity and depth.

He was her everything, and she loved him, with everything she was. So, so much.

"I can't believe it's been eight years already," he said, taking her off her own thoughts, as she felt his hand gently taking hers; their fingers interlinking. "Some times I can still feel her," he said, looking up at the clear sky. "As if she was standing right next to me. I can hear her voice, and, for a moment, it's as if she was never gone. As if I've never lost her..." he trailed off. And then he chuckled, shaking his head and turning to look at her. "Weird, huh?"

She titled her head to a side, smiling softly. "Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost," she recited, "no birth, no identity, form, no object of the world. Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing; appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain."

He smiled at her words, frowning again, and she reached up her free hand, softly brushing her long fingers through his soft hair. "The body, sluggish, aged, cold, the embers left from earlier fires, the light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again," she continued, in a hushed, husky whisper.

"I like that," he murmured, looking into her eyes.

"It's Walt Whitman," she offered.

"Carpe Diem?"

"One and the same," she said, nodding her head. "Though that's a different poem," she then added, chuckling again.

"You're starting to sound like Taiki," he teased, as it was now his turn to chuckle when she hit him with her elbow.

He shook his head, amused, as his eyes went back to the open field in front of them. His hand still gently cupping hers; his thumb softly caressing her wrist. The deep red flower got his attention, and his smile turned softer, as he looked at her again.

"Thank you," he whispered, in a low, gentle murmur. "For being here with me," he added, guiding their linked hands to his chest, right over his heart, as he leaned in closer, lovingly rubbing their noses together. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

She smiled at that. "You got lucky," she teased, shaking one shoulder.

He returned the smile, squeezing her hand. "I know I did," he agreed, in a low, loving tone.

She couldn't help it. A light blush came to her cheeks at his words. And though she had long ago given up on trying to stop the red from coming to her cheeks whenever he did or say stuff like that, it was kind of surprising. Even after all this time, he was still able not only of surprising her, but also of making her blush like a school girl. And he didn't even try to, either. It just came naturally; small little things here and there, sometimes completely out of the blue, yet with so much honesty and so much love shinning in those midnight blue orbs.

He kissed the back of her hand, lovingly, before standing up. "Let's go home," he said, offering a hand to her.

She smiled up to him, accepting the offered hand and standing up. Not letting his hand go, interlinking their fingers again, she cupped his cheek with her free hand in a silent, loving gesture of comfort, before meeting the distance between their faces and kissing him, softly and deeply.

"Let's go," she agreed after breaking the kiss, in a husky whisper.

.-.

He finished cleaning his teeth and rinsed his mouth out, pressing the towel over his face and then lazily rearranging his ponytail as he stepped out of the bathroom and into the room.

It has been a long day. Wearying and draining, even. It always was. Every year. And though it has got easier over the passing years, as he made his way to the bed and saw her there, he knew, in the past four years, she has been the one making things better.

She made everything better. Just being around her made him feel more alive than ever before in his life, even when they weren't doing anything but just sitting over the couch in silence, simply holding one another.

She made him a better man. And right now, she looked so beautiful, with her back resting against the headboard and pillows. One long leg up and over the covers, a lazy hand twisting the short blonde locks at the back of her neck as she held a book with the other, wearing nothing but the deep blue shirt of his pajama. Or what it used to be...

He couldn't remember a time when she had actually bought a pajama for herself. Instead, she just slept on tank tops, switching to the shirts from his pajamas when nights got colder. He never used the shirts, anyway, and she insisted, why get herself a nightie or something like that, and let a perfectly decent pajama shirt go to waste? Though he had the distinct suspicion she was just too lazy to actually get into a store to buy herself a pajama, and it was easier to just steal his.

Crawling his way up to her, he rested his head on her chest; her round, full breasts offering a comfy pillow, as he encircled his arm around her thin waist. A smile coming to his lips when she was fast to pass an arm around his shoulder, her hand going to play with his ponytail, but her eyes never left the book she still held in her other hand.

"I can't believe you're reading that again," he commented, chuckling lightly, not needing to read the cover to recognize the well thumbed, worn out little book. But still, he raised a hand up, confirming his suspicions as he read the title.

Jonathan Livingstone Seagull.

She slapped his hand away with the book. "I like it," she said, nonchalantly.

"Kinda noticed," he joked. "Why?" he then asked, tilting his head up and looking at her. "Because of the self improvement fable, or the being free and flying around part?"

She smiled cheekily at that. "Both," she answered, proudly.

He chuckled again. "Figures," he joked again.

She rolled her eyes at him, lightly slapping his head with said book and then sticking her tongue out.

"Careful," he warned. "If you're not gonna do anything with that tongue of yours, I suggest you keep it inside your mouth," he said, in a serious tone that, he knew, the mischievous light in his eyes completely betrayed.

Two blonde eyebrows went up at that. "Oh really?" she asked, in a superior, unaffected tone. "What are you gonna do about it if I don't?" she asked, sticking her tongue out to him yet again.

He smiled, resting his head over her breasts again. "I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson," he said, as his fingers went to the shirt, unbuttoning it.

She laughed at that, finally leaving the book over the night table and re-accommodating herself over the pillows. With both her arms now resting under her head, she looked down at him, trying to put on a shocked face, arching an eyebrow, but unable to fight the smile off her face.

"Is that so?" she asked, playfully. "Is Space Boy going to punish me now?"

He chuckled both at the teasing question and at the old, endearing nickname. "And for calling me that, now I'm gonna have to torture you," he said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady and serious as he sneaked a hand inside her sleeping shirt, cupping her breast.

A satisfied smile coming to his lips when her skin trembled under his touch, yet she stubbornly kept herself from showing any reaction.

"Oh my," she said, in a tone that could be classified as mocking.

But he knew better. He knew her. And he definitively knew that mischievous, playful light dancing in those green orbs right now.

"What am I gonna do?" she asked, frowning in a faked, worried manner. "How can I possibly redeem myself now?"

He chuckled, arching an eyebrow. "You really want me to answer that?" he asked back, as he flickered the small, hardened nipple with his thumb.

She gasped softly, biting on her lower lip as a sided, playful smile came to her lips. "Maybe," she answered, as one long leg found its way around his waist. "Or maybe is best for you to just..." she trailed off, as one soft hand made its way to his chest, down his stomach, "show me," she finished, as her hand reached its destination, and he felt long, soft fingers caressing his hardening member.

She licked his lips, giggling playfully at his low, sexual growl. And, damned, he loved that sound. It was so rare and playful, and downright sensual...

And after the day he had, with all those memories, all those dark feelings coming back to him; the desperation, the loneliness, the pain... the loss... he could never help getting down with all the memories that day brought with it. And now that he was back home, with her by his side, he knew, he needed her.

He needed the comfort of her skin, of her scent. Her kisses, her touch; her warmth, the softness of her long, strong body. Her love...

Lowering his face down, he captured her lips with his, plugging his tongue inside her mouth and playfully meeting hers in a slow, sensual dance. Loving the way she arched her back, pressing herself to him as she encircled her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, getting them closer.

A soft, almost soundless moan escaping her when he rocked himself against her, slowly but surely pressing his hard member against her sweet center, and he drowned in her skin. Going down her neck and kissing it softly, sensually nibbling the sensitive spot under her earlobe, and then going down again. Kissing the spot right over her fastening pulse, his hands sensually massaging her round, perfect breasts and a soft, low gasp reaching him, as long fingers tangled themselves in his hair, welcoming his lips and tongue's caresses and guiding him down as she arched her back.

Accepting the silent invitation, he kissed her collarbone, slowly and sensually licking the valley between her breasts, feeling small buds hardening in anxious anticipation against his hands. With the tip of his tongue, he licked one small, perfect, pink nipple, loving the trembling, throaty moan that escaped her at his ministrations. And then another one, barely a bit louder, when he finally took it into his mouth, sucking on the sensitive bud; his hand never abandoning the other one.

He felt her hands going to his waist and pulling his pants down, and he abandoned her glorious breast to go to her mouth again. Kissing her deeply and passionately, he followed her example, going to her hips, where the cream colored, embroidered cheeky panties were currently standing on his way.

Breaking the kiss, she lift her hips to make his task easier. A soft, loving smile on her lips, as she reached up her hands, cupping his face. And he knew, she was not only aware of the emotionally exhausting day he had have, but she was also making a silent, loving statement. Her own, private way of letting him know he was not alone, that she was there for him. With him.

And he loved her even more for that. For understanding how much he needed her right now, longing the comfort of her body, melting with his. And the way she looked up at him, needing him and wanting him just as much as he did, as she took his pants and underwear off to then make them turned around on the sheets; there was so much love in her eyes, it was all making him want her even more.

Straddling him, with the opened shirt hanging from her forearms as she put her hands on his chest for support, she lowered herself down, taking him in, and they both moaned at the contact. He grabbed her hips just as she started rocking on top of him, slowly but fully taking him, riding him, almost in slow motion, raising and lowering herself. Her hot, wet walls pressing on him, and her sweet tightness making him lose his mind as she moved and moaned; her eyes rolling back in pure desire.

He sat up, encircling one arm around her waist as she raised her bended legs up to her sides, squatting, resting one hand on his leg for support and opening herself up, making him go even deeper. Moaning out again at the deep, slow rhythm connection, he tangled his other hand in soft, blonde locks, making blurred green eyes open up to look at him.

"I love you," he whispered, hoarsely and sensually, loving the way she clutched herself to him, encircling her arms around his neck and moaning huskily and breathlessly into his mouth. Green eyes locked with his midnight blues. "Amin mela lle," he breathed out again, unaware of him saying it on his native language until he saw that soft, sensual smile on her lips; a deep moan escaping her, and her eyes drifting close in pure delight.

Sometimes he did that. On moments like this, when they moved together, kissing and caressing each other in their deliciously slow, almost delirious love making, he would say something to her in his native language without even realizing it until that one smile would come to her lips. As if she knew it escaped him unconsciously.

"I love you... so much..." she whispered back in between deep, husky moans; her fingers tangling themselves on his hair. "I love you... I love you... ah, Seiya..." she moaned out, clutching herself to him.

She was close, and he knew it. He could see it in her reddened cheeks and her half closed eyes; he could feel it in her trembling skin, and in her tightening walls around him. And he held her as she started trembling, moaning out and gasping for air; tilting herself back and resting her hands on the mattress, bucking her hips against him and taking him in.

He went to teas her clitoris with his thumb, making her eyes rolled back in delightful, pure ecstasy for a moment, before she opened her eyes again. Looking straight at him as she rocked her hips; his thumb increasing her climbing desire and her deep, husky moans filling the room until she straightened up, clutching herself to him tightly and letting out the most beautiful, sensual set of breathless, desperate moans into his ear as she came.

Trembling, with a thin layer of sweat making her pearly white skin shine, she bucked her hips one last time; her sweet, hot tightness almost making him lose himself. And he held her, caressing her waist and back, and giving her a moment to catch her breath, resting on him, before he turned them around, making her lay on her back.

A soft smile was playing on her lips as her green, blurred eyes opened up to look at him. Her hands going to his neck and her legs encircling around his waist, welcoming him, as he took her again. And she arched her back, burying her head on the pillows and moaning again as he plunged himself inside her, hitting her already sensitive core.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, softly and sensually. Lovingly, resting his face against her neck, kissing her soft, warm skin.

He felt her hand on the back of his head, and he lifted his head again to look at her.

"Kiss me," she whispered, in such a loving, almost pleading tone, that it made him moan out as he went down, giving her the requested kiss.

Tongues slowly dancing together, following the same sensual rhythm their joined bodies set. Melting into each other like so many times before; drowning in their love, in their passion. Moaning, gasping, trembling. Lips falling everywhere, their hands roaming through their bodies in never ending caresses as they moved together in a timeless, intimate dance until he couldn't take it anymore. Letting out a deep, long moan, he reached his orgasm, losing himself inside her as he felt her following him closely, holding him tightly as she moaned out deeply and huskily, in pure, delirious pleasure.

Shaking in the aftermath, with their breaths and heartbeats completely uncontrolled, he collapsed on top of her, nuzzling his face against her neck and smiling when he felt her tenderly caressing his nape.

He turned to lay on his back, and she followed him, resting her head over his chest and curling next to him. And he smiled again, passing an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close, as his other hand went to lazily but gently caress the soft, long arm now resting over his stomach.

He felt her rather than heard her letting out a soft, tired sigh, and he smiled, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, Haruka," he whispered, in a low, tired tone, as sleep was starting to take him over.

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest; her hand over his stomach going all the way to hug him as she now practically laid on top of him. Her long, naked body curled up against him.

"I love you too," was the sleepy, husky whisper that reached him before he finally closed his eyes, soon falling asleep, with her in his arms.

.

A.N.

Ok folks! This is it! The promised sequel!

It's gonna be long (I think...), and sad, and heartbreaking (or at least I hope so!), so if you are the kind that get emotionally and teary, you may wanna get yourself a few klennex boxes...

If you didn't read "Fiery Tales" then you may not understand over half of this story. Like the fact that, yes, I killed Kakyuu (I'm a bitch, I know). And I will be making references to a lot of details here and there, so... you can always ask if you don't understand/remember something, but because I am such a mean bitch, I can't promise I will answer any guessing... don't wanna ruin the story for ya!

Rated M for a reason. So, you've been warned!

Anyway! You know the deal already! So let me know what you think!